How not to deal with extra Bits
by The Ladies Luck
Summary: How not to deal with all those extra wobbly bits you get when you’ve been turned into the opposite sex...
1. Chapter 1

**A Note From Lady Bad Luck:** Yumi's having trouble adjusting to these new female hormones, I think…

Gawd, I had so much fun writing this. Especially the bit with Matsumoto and Renji. I can completely imagine them comparing boob sizes in the middle of the street, completely unembarrassed, while people watch them in disbelief… And Momo dies of embarrassment…

Anyway, my sister is writing a Bleach gender-bender fic. I just had to get on the bandwagon too, and decided to write about the characters' reactions. All credit for Matsumoto's reaction goes to my sister, whose own boobs are beginning to rival Matsumoto's, and who would also quite like to be able to see her toes.

By the way, Yoshihiro-san is in fact my Fourth Division OC. She has a wicked sense of humour, as you can probably tell.

* * *

**How Not to Deal With Extra Bits**

The Shinigami Womens' Association held an emergency meeting.

This wasn't all that uncommon. President Yachiru was fond of calling emergency meetings when nothing much was wrong- when she'd run out of candy, in one memorable example.

Things were different, this emergency meeting. From her position beside the President's desk, Vice-president Ise Nanao watched the members stumble into their places, her expression thoughtful. The Association seemed to be taking this rather better than she had though- there were no screams and hysterics, for one. Quite a few of them were looking sheepish- expressions of the sort you get when something is not right and you damn well know it were huddled on their faces, loath to leave.

Something was definitely not right. Nanao, not much of a jiggly person by any stretch of the imagination, no longer had even a hint of jiggle to her. This was highly disturbing.

Beside her, Yachiru hit her gavel on the desk. It splintered slightly under the force of the blow.

"Shut up, all o' ya! Scary Glasses is gonna talk!"

The crowd shut up. One does not disobey Yachiru Kusajishi willingly.

Nanao moved forward, pushing her glasses further up her nose, her clipboard ticked under her other arm. "We have a crisis, ladies," she began calmly, and was promptly interrupted.

"Too right we do!" someone called out. "I can't even walk without feeling like I'm doing something obscene!"

"My twins are gone!" someone else shouted.

"Yes, I know," Nanao said patiently. She'd had the same thing happen. "I will take your complaints later, and when we catch whoever did this, I will present him or her with the full list. It will be long." Mollified, the complainants fell silent. "In the meantime, however, does anyone have any idea of how it might have happened? Nemu, perhaps?"

"To switch the genders of an entire community is not something lightly undertaken," the Twelfth Division fukutaichou said calmly. "People might complain, as they are doing now." She looked much the same as she always had, inasmuch as a male could look like a female.

In the early hours of the morning, something had swept through the Seireitei. Nanao, and the entire female population, had woken up minus two very important bits of anatomy. And plus a different bit, though they were doing their best to ignore it.

Their only consolation was that now, the male members of the Gotei 13 were walking around with breasts.

(As it happened, the fly in that particular ointment was that said males tended to have much bigger breasts than the real women. Something to do with reassignment of mass, according to Nemu.)

"So you're _sure_ it had nothing to do with Kurotsuchi-taichou?" Hinamori Momo, who made a very cute teenaged boy indeed, asked. She-_ he_ sounded on the verge of panic.

Nemu leveled him a look. "Of course," he said blandly. " I checked our databases as soon as I realised what had happened. There was nothing whatsoever. Father is currently examining the properties of Arrancars' hierro."

"It was probably just an accident," Matsumoto said, flipping his still-long strawberry blonde hair over one shoulder. Unlike ninety-nine percent of the ex-women in the room, he was grinning.

"What are you so happy about?" Nanao asked acidly. Matsumoto turned to him, and flashed him a victory sign.

"I can see my feet! I haven't been able to do that for years!"

Nanao adjusted his glasses, and decided to forego answering.

He had lost the Association's attention about the time Matsumoto piped up. Most of them were now complaining to each other about things best left unsaid; the higher ranked ex-women were clustered around Matsumoto, determined to convince him that being a woman was much better.

Nanao rolled his eyes, and borrowed Yachiru's gavel. It made a satisfying crunch.

"No, but seriously, you guys, I'd almost forgotten how great it is to just look down, and be able to see my toes wiggling away happily like that. I like my girls and all, but there's just something so… satisfying about being able to see your toes and not having to bend over to do it."

"Moving on forward…" Nanao said pointedly.

Never one to be outdone, Yachiru piped up, "I can pee standing up now!"

A deathly silence filled the hall, before everyone started talking at once. The meeting only went downhill from there. Nanao gave up trying to restore order around the time his fellow fukutaichou started discussing which of the captains made the prettiest woman, and just sat back and listened.

Renji was winning, apparently. Nanao hadn't seen her yet, but several of the others had.

"…And his hair is absolutely _gorgeous_," Matsumoto gushed. "It's so bright and thick and silky-looking. I wish mine looked that good."

"You'd think his tattoos would look weird on a woman, but they're strangely sexy," Rukia, the newest addition to the fukutaichou group, put in. "And his boobs, oh gods, his boobs. I'd swear they're almost as big as yours, Rangiku-san."

Matsumoto blinked. "Really? I'll have to compare them. Reckon he'd let me?"

"Sure, he's not exactly embarrassed!" Rukia chuckled. Tiny and petite and pixielike as a girl, he was just as cute, except for when that mile-wide evil streak showed through. "Except how are you going to compare?"

"I know exactly how big my girls are," Matsumoto said, winking. "I'll just go up and see if they fit in my hands."

"What's Byakushi like now?" Yachiru chirped, staring intently at Rukia. Yachiru was perhaps one of the very few people who didn't look any different at all as the opposite gender, still all big eyes and attitude.

"Pretty enough to make me jealous," Rukia sighed. "He's not stunning like Renji, just really quietly beautiful. Like Unohana-taichou."

"You mean, like she used to be," Isane put in shyly. "Taichou's gone kind of freaky now. I think Zaraki-taichou is rubbing off on her."

"Ken-chan's pretty as a girl!" Yachiru giggled in the sudden silence. No-one had wanted to envisage the Kenpachi… female… for fear of what their imaginations might have conjured up.

"Really?" Matsumoto asked curiously, the only one of the ex-women who wasn't looking somewhat apprehensive. Yachiru nodded happily.

"He took his spikes down, 'cause they look silly on a woman, an' his hair's long already, so yeah. Baldy looks stupid, an' it turns out he really does shave his head, 'cause Feathers came out cryin' about how he coulda been so pretty. An' Shiro-chan's clone is so cute as a girl!"

He paused for breath here, and Rukia took the opportunity to shoot Nanao a confused glance. "Shiro-chan's clone?"

"Eleventh's new fourth seat," Nanao quietly explained. "He looks quite similar to Hitsugaya-taichou."

"I saw Puppy-taichou an' Sunglasses too, and Puppy-taichou doesn't look much different, but Sunglasses has crazy boobs an' a huge butt, an' he still looks really tough so that makes him look so hilarious!"

"How can you tell he has a huge butt?" Nanao asked, fascinated and horrified at the same time. "Hakama don't exactly bare all."

"Cause he was runnin' around the street in his underwear screamin' bloody murder about it," Yachiru said matter-of-factly. "Puppy-taichou was tryin' ta calm him down, but whatever he was sayin' wasn't working, 'cause Sunglasses was just screamin' louder."

Matsumoto giggled. "Silly Iba. You guys should see Shiro-chan. He's so adorable! I could just eat him up. How's Ukitake-taichou measure up, Rukia?"

Rukia shook his head. "I haven't seen him. He says he's having one of his sick days, but I think that might just be a cover. What about your father, Nemu?"

The ex-women froze, as Nemu said calmly, "I haven't seen him. He told me that if I go into his lab, he will dissect me and use me for lab-rat food. I do not want to be lab-rat food."

"Fair enough," Matsumoto said, relieved. "Nanao? How about your captain."

"Overjoyed," Nanao said flatly, adjusting his errant glasses. "He went on and on about how he could better understand me by walking a mile in my shoes, and in the end I made up an errand to go somewhere sane." She paused, and amended that statement. "Saner. I don't think there's a single rational person left in the Seireitei."

* * * *

Meanwhile, the dreams of half the Eleventh Division were coming true. Somewhat.

Girls, hot and otherwise, in varying states of dress, were filling up the Division canteen. The fact that these girls were the Eleventh-Divisioners themselves made this much less of an achievement.

The three most senior seats, sans Yachiru and Shiro-chan's clone, were occupying the table in the sunniest corner of the room, and were enjoying having a relatively calm space about three tables wide between themselves and the rest of the division. Yumi, who had been oddly emotional all day, was slumped over the table, clutching a few sad locks of red-bronze hair in a limp fist. Ikkaku, bald (shaved!) and beautiful, was scowling at anyone and everyone who came within sight (this was the main reason for the calm oasis around them), and the Kenpachi of Zaraki was staring out the window, looking oddly thoughtful. Had it been a normal day, bets would have been taken on the object occupying his mind by now.

The spirit of his nameless zanpaku-to was beside herself with laughter. Kenpachi didn't blame her- the whole situation was more than a little ridiculous. He'd woken up that morning, jiggling. In fact, wobbling like a jelly. His clothes were suddenly too big for him- except for across the chest, where they were too tight. He'd ended up having to borrow a spare pair of hakama that vaguely fit him from the supply cupboard down the hall, and completely ignored his haori- if he tried it on now, he'd almost be swimming in it. His normal shihakushou was wrapped around him almost twice at the waist, and if he took too deep a breath, those… _things_ on his chest threatened to pop out of the fabric completely.

He'd cancelled the morning training. It was just too dangerous to take the chance.

Yumi muttered something despondent into the table. He'd burst out of the bathroom he shared with Ikkaku that morning, shrieking something about 'hair' and 'beautiful', and hadn't made a word of sense ever since. Ikkaku had emerged shortly thereafter, completely bald again. Kenpachi, one of the few who had seen the third seat's long auburn hair, put two and two together and came up with four. (Although Yumi should probably have cheered up by now, Kenpachi mused.)

Pigs had flown. Men had turned into women. Th' end o' th' world had come about at last, accordin' to th' fruitcake at least.

With Yachiru gone, there were no males left in the entire Eleventh Division.

(Kenpachi wasn't going to give up the luxury of thinking of himself as male, though. There were some lines you just don't cross, if you're Kenpachi Zaraki, and the gender line is one of them. Even if it's already been crossed for you.)

* * * * *

"Hey, Renji! Whose boobs do you reckon are bigger, mine or yours?"

Renji looked down. Thought for a moment.

"Yours, I think."

Matsumoto looked thoughtful. "Really? Gimme a feel."

"Go ahead."

There was silence in the Fifth Division canteen. Momo thought he might die of embarrassment.

At last, Matsumoto announced, "No, yours are definitely bigger than mine. You need to find a better bra, Renji."

"If you say so," the redhead grinned good-naturedly. "Where are you off to next?"

"Eleventh. According to Yachiru, Zaraki's are huge as well. Wish me luck!"

Renji did so, and Matsumoto left. The Fifth Division was quiet for a while, and then they all started talking at once.

Momo began to dread the next SWA meeting.

* * * * *

Fourth Division was in chaos. Soul Reapers were racing through the hallways, panicking. Twelfth Division was in the library, looking up possible causes. Eleventh Division was packing the hospital, desperate to get back to their original bodies. Soi Fon was stalking around somewhere, not sure whether to call it a danger to the Soul Society or not.

Yamada Hanataro was stuck in a janitor's closet. Usually this wasn't a good situation, but this time she had Ganju for company, and she was fairly sure the door wasn't locked. Besides, it was probably the safest place to be at the moment, what with the danger of being run over out in the hallway.

Unfortunately, Ganju smelled of hog. Bonnie, apparently, wasn't used to her master being so… light, and had thrown him- her, Hanataro corrected herself- considerably more than usual on the journey in to Seireitei. Hanataro was busy healing the numerous scrapes and bruises her friend had picked up as a result.

At least Ganju looked somewhat good as a girl. Hanataro had met Shiba Kuukaku on occasion, and subsequently been terrified out of her wits, but she had to admit the woman was pretty. Ganju now looked similar enough to her big sister that it freaked Hanataro out a little.

"So, do they know what's going on?" Ganju asked, watching the skin on her palms repair itself. "Sis completely freaked when she found out. Screamed she was uglier than me, and shut herself in the workshop. I thought it was probably best to get the hell outta there before she blew the house up again."

Hanataro shivered. "We don't know, but we're working on it. The whole Division seems like it's gone crazy."

"It's not just Fourth," Ganju said. "Third's blowing a gasket, and Second's quieter than usual."

"Eleventh's running all over the place," Hanataro added, and giggled. "I never thought I'd be able to laugh at so many of them sitting in the waiting room."

"Geez, that's an image and a half," Ganju agreed, guffawing. Hanataro opened her mouth to add something, when the door to the hallway slid open.

"The hell are you two doing?"

A tall, chubby man stood there, long auburn hair tied back and one eyebrow quirked in a silent question. Hanataro thought for a moment, before she recognised Fourth's sixth seat, her direct superior. "Yoshihiro-san!" he yelped. "I was just healing Ganju-san…"

"In a janitor's closet," Yoshihiro-san said suspiciously.

Hanataro grinned weakly. "It's quieter in here?"

Her superior blinked, then grinned wickedly. "Yeah, sure, whatever, loverboys- or should I say girls? Taichou wants to see us, so finish up and get to her office quick."

The door closed again. Hanataro blinked, blushed, and silently busied herself with Ganju's last scrape.

The world had gone mad.

* * * * *

Kurotsuchi Mayuri was gibbering. Sequestered away in the most comprehensive lab Twelfth had to offer, she was conducting experiments as fast as she could, feverishly trying to find out what had happened.

It wasn't the actual transformation that bothered her, as such. She could handle being a woman quite easily, as long as her breasts stayed the same modest size they were and didn't mutate into monsters like Matsumoto's.

_It just wasn't supposed to be possible._ People did not randomly change gender in the middle of the night. If her ears were accurate (and they were, Mayuri had modified them to be as sensitive as they could be without putting her at any disadvantage, way back when she was still a man), then Nemu had also been changed, which was twice as impossible. Going from the numerous female voices she had heard so far, none of which she recognised, it was also possible that the whole Twelfth Division was now the opposite gender.

Why stop at that, if you're going to the trouble of gender-swapping a whole Division? Why not the entire Gotei Thirteen, the Seireitei or even the whole Soul Society?

"How is this even possible!" she shrieked to thin air, attempting to pull her stringy blue hair out by the roots in frustration. The solutions in the beakers scattered around the lab bubbled mournfully back.

Snarling viciously, Mayuri got back to work. This wasn't going to be solved by simply shouting.

* * * * *

"Oi, Yumi? You okay?"

No answer.

"Fruitcake…"

"Ken-chan, what's wrong with Feathers?"

"Dunno. Don't think I wanna know either, brat."

"_Ikkaku…"_

"He's alive!"

"_YOU CUT ALL YOUR BEAUTIFUL HAIR OFF!! HOW COULD YOU?! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SO PRETTY!!"_

"Aaargh! Help!"


	2. Chapter 2

**A Note From Lady Bad Luck:** This wasn't supposed to happen. It turns out Sis has given up on her gender-bender fic, so I'm allowed to cannibalise it for scenes that I want. Thanks to all you reviewers- and there's quite a few of you, too. Four, I think. (You can tell I come from a small fanbase originally. ^^)

And this is what happened in the other two worlds. I'm not sure If I'll continue past this point or not…

* * *

**How Not to Deal With Extra Bits**

The yowl of an enraged cat echoed through Urahara Shoten, accompanied by several women shrieking (and by the sounds of it, trying to batter down the Shoten door). Urahara Kisuke hid a satisfied smirk with his- ahem, _her- _fan. Everything was going _exactly_ as planned. (For a given value of 'exactly'; Kisuke hadn't quite counted on himself being changed into a woman as well.)

On the floor near the living room door, Hirako Shinji groaned, gingerly resting her arm over her eyes in an effort to block out the light. All that alcohol from last night was exacting its price from the Vizard, and Kisuke eyed her warily. She'd had enough experience with Shinji's projectile-vomiting talents to know to stay away at all costs.

"So you're awake," Kisuke said innocently. "Feel any different?

Shinji thought for a moment. Moved her hand down to her chest. Ran for the toilet.

Several minutes later, Shinji emerged, haggard and despairing. "What the hell did we do last night?"

Kisuke tried to chuckle, but it came out sounding even more giggly than usual. "I'm fairly sure you switched my reiatsu trackers with reversal charges, and when I sent one out, it appears to have changed everyone with a certain amount of reiatsu into the opposite gender."

Shinji blanched. "Is that true?"

Kisuke nodded. Shinji opened his mouth to say something, and at that exact moment, the loudest shout yet rang through the Shoten.

"_KISUKE, IF I CATCH YOU I AM GOING TO RIP YOU LIMB FROM LIMB AND CASTRATE YOU!!"_

Kisuke looked at Shinji. That had sounded uncomfortably like Yoruichi's cat-voice.

"I think we'd better get out of here."

* * * * *

Meanwhile, deep in the desert monstrosity known as Las Noches, the Espada were also having a meeting. It wasn't going well.

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was loudly threatening to murder anyone and everyone who laid eyes upon his luscious female body. (It didn't help his cause that he was still wearing his usual outfit. Ulquiorra wondered idly if those were the only clothes he had.)

Szayel was gleefully shouting something about 'a wonderful opportunity for experimentation!' his voice as shrill as ever. Starrk was sleeping, the shock of being turned into a woman apparently not enough to faze him. Halibel was being stoic in a corner, and Yammy was investigating his new breasts with a look of horrified fascination spread across his face. Zommari and Barragan were conspicuous in their absence, and Aaroniero was hiding underneath what looked like a tablecloth with a pair of holes cut in it at a about eye height. Nnoitra was nowhere to be seen, though Ulquiorra had seen him stalking around a while ago, looking mightily displeased.

"Funny, aren't they?" Ichimaru Gin's voice whispered in his air. Ulquiorra could almost hear the traitor-captain grinning.

"I certainly never thought I'd see the day Yammy became less of an eyesore to look at," Ulquiorra replied, somewhat politely depending on whether your name was Yammy or not, and turned to look at Gin.

Ulquiorra blinked. Gin seemed to have embraced his newfound femininity with open arms. He was wearing a midriff-baring tube top, with a white miniskirt patterned in silver, and thigh-high leather boots over black fishnet tights. The outfit was topped off by a plain white jacket, left open at the front to show off modest curves. By the looks of it, he had also raided Loly and Menoly's makeup boxes, and managed to put on some sort of eyeliner with more finesse than would be expected from someone who had never done it before.

"I thought I'd try and find out why women take so long to get dressed," Gin explained helpfully. "You should see Aizen-taichou and Kana-chan- they're both so pretty!"

Ulquiorra wondered if he should nod. You never knew with Gin.

Suddenly, Gin's smile disappeared. A musing look appeared on his foxy face, and he stepped back to survey Ulquiorra, stroking an imaginary beard. "Actually, you're not too bad looking yourself. A little volume to your hair, maybe some colour to your cheeks- or maybe not, pale mysterious girls are hot…" he reached out and fluffed Ulquiorra's hair, muttering to himself.

Ulquiorra blinked again. _What the hell?_

Gin paused in his musing, and smiled again, slow and cunning. "I think I know just what to do with you!" he sang, and reached out to grab hold of Ulquiorra's thin wrist. "Come with me! I have some pretty clothes just waiting for you! They'll look good, I promise!"

Ulquiorra's eyes barely had time to widen in horror before Gin dragged him off to whatever chamber of horrors the once-captain had in mind.

He was _doomed._

* * * * *


	3. Chapter 3

**A Note From Lady Bad Luck:** A third chapter. Huh. And here goes the only solid pairing I've got right now.

* * *

**How Not to Deal with Extra Bits**

Kira Izuru met up with Hinamori Momo every fortnight, at one of the Seireitei's premier ramen stands. It was a tradition they had established several weeks after their captains had scarpered into Hueco Mundo, when the bars in the Fifth/Third division general area had finally gotten tired of having business spoiled by two scarily depressed and severely drunk lieutenants, and kicked them out. The ramen stand was an acceptable replacement, as it had a bench to slump at, reflective surfaces to muse over, and sold no alcohol, which saved them both several trips to the toilet in the morning.

This meeting went much the same as it always did. Izuru arrived first (the proprietor didn't recognise her at first, and then laughed his ass off when he did- he was one of the few in the entire Seireitei who hadn't been affected) and secured a seat at the bar for herself and Momo. Several minutes went past as she waited- and then, Momo melted out of the crowd in the street, slipping gracefully into her (_his_, Izuru firmly corrected himself) seat.

They looked at each other for a few seconds, both wondering what to say. Izuru slowly shook her head, noticing one difference after another with her old friend- the smaller eyes, the lankier limbs, the… lack of any female curves at all.

"I'm taller than you," Momo said, sounding choked. Izuru blinked, realising that he was trying not to laugh.

"Silver lining in the cloud?"

Momo nodded. "But seriously, at least you look good, Izuru. Your hair is so pretty."

"Some silver lining," Izuru sighed. "Wabisuke hasn't stopped laughing for days."

Momo looked suitably sympathetic. "You should hear Tobiume. She thinks this whole thing's nothing more than a joke."

"The question is, who thought it up?" Izuru asked. "Shall we order?"

As if in answer, Momo's stomach rumbled loudly. Momo blushed, and smiled embarrassedly. "I think we'd better."

"Your lady's right, you know," the stand's owner grinned wickedly. "Oops, I mean, your _man._ The usual's comin' right up, Soul Reapers!" He sauntered back to his pots, snickering to himself. Momo glared, but held her tongue.

Izuru sighed. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

* * * * *

Hiyori was finally running out of air to scream with.

Kensei rubbed his abused ears as her voice cracked and sputtered. Whoever had forced him to be subjected to this was going to _pay_.

(After they'd turned him back, of course. Being a woman was not nearly so easy as he'd thought.)

* * * * *

"I don't understand this!" Mayuri Kurotsuchi gritted out, glaring at the computer screen as if she could set it on fire with willpower alone. "There is no trace of toxin, trace elements, no reiatsu, no nothing! This should be impossible!"

She was examining several tissue samples Nemu had procured from the Fourth Division Hospital- with permission from Unohana for once- searching for a possible cause for the Gotei Thirteen's public humiliation. So far, she had found nothing.

"Nothing?" Nemu asked blandly. "Shouldn't there be environmental traces?"

"Yes. Here, there is none," Mayuri scowled. "Spiritual bodies should at least have ingrained reiatsu signatures, if not trace elements ingested along with food and water. It's as if we've been given completely new bodies."

"But Zaraki-taichou's scar is still there," Nemu pointed out. "As are your modifications."

"I know that, Nemu," Mayuri said acidly, glaring at him. "Purged, then, of everything. Haven't I already said I don't understand this?"

Nemu nodded placidly.

"Then shut up, and go tell Unohana I need more specimens. Preferably from captain or vice-captain level Soul Reapers, that way I can test their reiatsu levels. This seems to have only afflicted those whose reiatsu is above a certain level, and I wish to confirm this."

Shutting up, Nemu went. Mayuri's scowl all but followed him out the door.

* * * * *

Elsewhere, the captains of Fourth and Eleventh were up to no good.

Fourth Division's walls had no soundproofing, something that, in hindsight, hadn't been a very good idea. But then, no-one had ever expected that soundproofing would be needed around Unohana's office.

"Adventurous buggers," Kotetsu Isane would have thought, had she been less polite. And now, of all times? That registered higher on Isane's kink-meter than leather and chains.

* * * * *

"Should we tell them?" Shinji asked reluctantly. She and Kisuke were hiding on the roof of the Shoten, tucked between an air-conditioning unit and the peak of the roof. Yoruichi was stalking around Karakura somewhere, still out for their blood.

"It's not my fault this happened," Kisuke said, grinning. "You tell them yourself."

"Has anyone told you that you have the mind of a five-year-old and twice the innate selfishness? Besides, you know Yoruichi will blame you as well."

Kisuke winced. "Don't remind me."

Shinji sighed, and attempted to stretch her long legs. "I guess we'd better stay up here until she's calmed down."

"Agreed. I wish to still have the use of my manhood- once we get back to normal, anyway."

Shinji took a deep breath, looking thoughtful. "Come to think of it, how are we gonna turn ourselves back?"

Kisuke grinned his Cheshire-cat grin. "I have several ideas, none of which are likely to work."

Shinji looked at him. "We're doomed, aren't we?"

"Most probably. Got any food with you, by any chance? I'm starving."


End file.
